All the Lonely People
by Teal93s
Summary: "All the lonely people, where do they all come from?"  -The Beatles- SUBMIT YOUR OWN OCs into The Walking Dead.  Have them interact with the popular AMC characters, or other OCs.
1. Chapter 0

**All the Lonely People**

_NOTE:__ I in no way claim the characters or plot content of these fanfiction stories that belong to The Walking Dead, those are proprietary creations of Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore, Charlie Adlard, and Frank Darabont. Original characters and plot content are a blend of my own creation, and suggestions, input, and guidance from readers and reviewers._

_I am starting a new series based on AMC's The Walking Dead. If you want to be a character, holler at me! Complete the questions below. My only request is that you carefully review what your peers have submitted, and try to give me a variety where possible (of ages, backgrounds, professions, etc.). Each chapter will feature one character (Lost-style), and will give a flashback on where the character was when the world collapsed, as well as an introduction to their background._

_With that being said, let's get started, shall we?_

Name:

Gender:

Race/Ethnicity:

Age:

Height:

Body Type:

Physical Description:

Notable Physical Attributes: (piercings, tattoos, scars, moles, freckles, birthmarks, etc.)

Clothing Style:

Personality Description:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Personal Vices: (smoking, drinking, recreational drug use, gambling, etc.)

Ethics/Morals/Beliefs:

Romantic Interest In:

Friends:

Family:

Hobbies:

Interests: (music, television, movies, art, books, magazines, etc.)

What's In Your Backpack:

Background Story:


	2. Chapter 1

**All the Lonely People**

**Chapter One**

_NOTE:__ I in no way claim the characters or plot content of these fanfiction stories that belong to The Walking Dead, those are proprietary creations of Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore, Charlie Adlard, and Frank Darabont. Original characters and plot content are a blend of my own creation, and suggestions, input, and guidance from readers and reviewers._

_Hello and welcome friends! This first chapter will hopefully serve as a structural template of many upcoming chapters featuring some of the submitted OCs. I wanted to feature some of the OCs in the first chapters before we unite everyone and begin our adventure together, so I apologize if it seems a bit slow. I used my character as a sample. Let me know if the timeline is unclear, or there is too much jumping back and forth, or it's just too boring. I hope you enjoy._

- Present Moment -

Dagny Quinn jumped to life screaming, thrashing and flailing wildly as she felt fingertips graze her throat just shy of her carotid artery. Her china-blue eyes fluttered with wonder and she stared awestruck into the face before her. Words escaped her. "How long had it been since she saw another human being? Another LIVING human being?"

A small statured, fair-skinned woman with long, silky, brown hair and wide hazel eyes stood erect and serene facing her. "Jackie Stone." She calmly introduced herself. "Are you healthy? Have you been bitten?" she interrogates.

- Three Hours Prior –

Dagny gripped her long, wavy, honey-colored hair at the roots and tugged while vehemently blinking her eyes. Tears of grief, devastation, and sheer exhaustion rolled down her dirt-smudged cheek. "How long had it been since she last slept?" She leaned wearily against the massive oak, and closed her eyes for only a moment to contemplate how she got here.

- Four Days Prior-

Gunshots rang out through the variegated pandemonium of screams, cries, and unworldly moans. People, coworkers, friends fell tumultuously into unforgiving piles of lifeless corpses. Dagny crouched beneath a desk at the nurses' station in the ICU. She rocked back and forth on her haunches cursing herself for coming back to the hospital. She reflected in disbelief on her current position. "How was this possible? This defied all laws of science and reason."

The United States Army had shown up yesterday, at first evacuating infected patients. This soon escalated into an assassination of infected patients. Nurses protested in rage, and were promptly shot. What began as a fever four days ago quickly turned fatal. The morgue was full of bodies one day later, and only hours after that, bodies began to spring to life.

"What is going on in the morgue?" Dr. Colie shouted at Sebastian scratching the day-old stubble that grew on his chin. "I heard moaning in there, and the pathologist is outside smoking." He stated flatly. "Sebastian, we can't have patients running around in there. We need to keep the morgue quarantined. I don't want to encourage nosocomial infections. Can you please go check it out?" the doctor ordered. Sebastian rolled his eyes and turned to face the doctor.

"I have seven call lights going off right now, antibiotics are due, and there is no one else to dispense them, plus Mr. Weatherby needs an enema." Sebastian stated in frustration. I am the only nurse on this floor. You are going to have to check on the morgue yourself."

The doctor stormed off towards the morgue like a petulant little child. Dagny shook her head at Sebastian and smiled. "Let me help you with those antibiotics." She volunteered reaching for the cart.

"No, I need you to suture…" he was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream.

Dr. Colie ran down the corridor, crimson blood splaying from a laceration on his anterior forearm. "That Son of a Bitch bit me!" he screamed grabbing at his arm. "Get the suture kit." He ordered Dagny.

- One Week Prior -

"Who's presenting?" Dagny Quinn asks eyes locked downward on the patient's chart, right-hand massaging her temple. Morning rounds had begun to dwindle in attendance over the past few weeks, and it seemed that doctors, PAs, and NPs where hard to come by lately, particularly at this hour.

"15-year-old female presented with hyperpyrexia. Patient also complained of fatigue, malaise, and hallucinations…" charge nurse Sebastian Romero began wringing his knuckles nervously.

Dagny and the nurses preceded from patient to patient through the Intensive Care Unit, reviewing the chief complaint, history of present illness, medical diagnosis and treatment for each one. Census at UCSF the past two weeks had shown a record high, while staffing was always short. Rooms were dispensed at a premium, and overflow patients were being examined and admitted to empty gurneys in the hallway. On-call rooms, usually occupied by doctors, PAs, NPs, and nurses had been surrendered to patients in need days ago. It had been two days since Dagny had slept, not wanting to leave the hospital, and return to a downward spiral of increasing chaos and desperation.

"Dagny, are you listening?" Sebastian prompted. "Dagny?" he said scratching his thick, dark, wavy hair.

"Mmmm?" she mumbled in reply, blinking hazily.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asked gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Sleep?" she repeated as she stared questioningly into his chocolate brown eyes, trying to coin an answer. "I'm not sure. Maybe a day or two ago."

"You need to get some rest." He said firmly.

"I can't go home, what if something happens? You are already short-staffed, and it would take me over an hour to get back here." She responded quickly. BART trains, it seemed, were operating with a perpetual and cumulative delay this week.

"Here," he offered tenderly slipping a small scratched titanium key into her hand. "Crash at my place. It's close enough that you can walk back here quickly if need be." He assured her. "Dr. Colie will be here in 30 minutes or less. I spoke with him on the phone when we began rounds."

"Thank you," she replied quickly without a moment of hesitation. "I owe you one." She grabbed her navy wool peacoat from behind the nurses' station, and thrust her left arm quickly into the sleeve.

"Make sure you thank me when you win the Nobel Prize for that research of yours!" he shouted merrily, his eyes twinkling as he smiled at her.

She was out the door before she could finish putting her coat on.

- One Month Prior -

"I love you. And not in a way that you love your friends, or even that you love your grandmother, though we do make amazing friends, and you fall asleep at the movies like my grandmother. Not in a high school crush way, though that's what how you may think of it. I just love you. You are everything I have ever searched for. I know you think of me as just a friend, and I know that tonight I crossed a line, but I had to say it. I love you." Sebastian stuttered. He began to chew nervously on his thumb nail as he gazed across the hood of the car at her. Dagny remained speechless for a moment, a moment that seemed to drag onto eternity as she looked out at the city lights below her, contemplating how to respond. She shivered. It was a chilly night on the San Francisco hillside. She sidled up to his warm body, and laid her head slowly on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her slender body without word, understanding the sentiment behind the gesture.

"I just need time. We don't need to rush. Just a little more time." She whispered quietly. He nodded in agreement and kissed the crown of her head.

- One Year Prior -

"Shane, what are you doing here?" Dagny proclaimed irritated and in exasperation tapping her foot on the floor. "This isn't a good time. I'm right in the middle of preparing for my PANCE exam, and I have a job interview at UCSF tomorrow. Seriously, what are you doing here?" she demanded.

Shane Walsh bit his lower lip thoughtfully, "I had to see you. I can't stop thinking about you. 'Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.'" He asserted.

"I'm sorry, but did you just fly 2,500 miles to quote Dead Poets Society?" she interjected impatiently. "Look, Shane, I told you I loved you six months ago, that I wanted to be more than friends. SIX MONTHS AGO!" She yelled waving her arms angrily. "You let me leave without saying one word to me, not even a goodbye. I haven't heard from you in six months. Not one call, not one text, not even an e-mail. Look, I really need to study. I'm sorry you wasted a trip out here." She shook her head lightly, and soft waves of hair tumbled around her shoulders. Dagny began to close the door when he grabbed it firmly.

Shane grabbed her wrist and pulled her across the threshold, outside the doorway. "I'm sorry Dagny. You put me in an awkward position. I had a girlfriend."

"We SLEPT TOGETHER!" she screamed, her face flushing with rage. "Did that mean nothing to you?" she demanded.

"Look, I think about you every moment of every day. I'm a cop for Christ's sake, do you know how dangerous it is to be inattentive on the job?" he said running his hand briskly through his cropped hair.

"Kind of like performing surgery and suturing patients while thinking about your botched declaration of unrequited love?" she retorted huffily.

He reached into his pocket, and removed a small, navy, velvet box.

"Don't." she said flatly. "Don't do anything you are going to regret." She cautioned him. "Go home and think about this first." Tears of anger, and frustration welled in her eyes.

"I love that you read the last page of novels first." He began grabbing her hand. "I love that you listen to Christmas music 365 days a year. I love that you taught my grandmother how to rap 'Ice Ice Baby.' I love that when you're mad, your nostrils flare… like that." He smiled.

"Don't." she interjected once more shaking her head.

"I have loved you every day, even when you are sweaty and gross from running, even when you enter 'who can go the longest without showering' contests, even when you reek of formaldehyde and corpses from school, and even when you angrily label all the muscles on my body with permanent marker when I am sleeping… ALL the muscles. I am so sorry that I hurt you and that it took me this long to realize it. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if it means spending it apologizing for the pain I caused. Please, marry me." He pleaded beseechingly.

Dagny slowly withdrew her hand from his grip and towards the door. "Shane, I need to study. I'm sorry." She murmured through her tears as she walked into her apartment and closed the door.


	3. Chapter 2

**All the Lonely People**

**Chapter Two**

_NOTE:__ I in no way claim the characters or plot content of these fanfiction stories that belong to The Walking Dead, those are proprietary creations of Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore, Charlie Adlard, and Frank Darabont. Original characters and plot content are a blend of my own creation, and suggestions, input, and guidance from readers and reviewers._

_I want to apologize for the delay. My schedule has been quite hectic this past week (and continues on into this week), with studies, work, preparing for a friend's birthday, preparing for holiday travel, and preparing for the holidays in general! I should be able to post a little bit more expediently this weekend and next week as I am on holiday._

_Some additional thoughts I had – I have a slightly different angle/plot I would like to include around the science of the "zombification," but in order to enact it effectively, I need a character or a combination of characters with a background in microbiology, pathophysiology, or immunology. Let me know if you are interested, otherwise I will just create some more characters of my own._

_I am attempting the backwards timeline again, just because I like the way it tells the background story, and simultaneously sets me up to carry the story forward into the present. I reread the last chapter, and I think that the major problem was that I did not introduce characters or their relationships until the end of the chapter, which created a bit of confusion. I am going to attempt to remedy that this time. If this doesn't work, please let me know and I will abandon the idea of the backwards plot._

- Present Moment -

Jackie Stone rolled under the rusty, green Chevrolet Camaro, beads of sweat and anxiety rolling down her porcelain skin. Her body reverberated with apprehension as she quietly listened to the oncoming herd of walkers sauntering towards the group. There were too many of them to fight off, hiding was the most feasible survival tactic at their disposal. She squeaked out a tiny yelp as a small, delicate, freezing cold hand clamped itself over her mouth. Her eyes widened in shock and horror as she turned her head and saw the long, lanky girl positioned under the car, speechless, motionless, and paralyzed with fear. She stared into the ice blue eyes, and noticed the blue cyanotic lips, wondering quietly how long this girl had been hiding there. In complete silence and with a mutual air of understanding and camaraderie, Jackie gripped the strange girl's hand, and the two huddled together praying that this would not be the end.

- A Few Hours Ago-

Jackie Stone extended her arm, looking quickly away from the jagged scar in mild embarrassment. She helped Dagny Quinn to her feet, watching the slate blue eyes wander the length of the childhood scar curiously. "A fight." Jackie murmured quietly.

"Pardon?" Dagny asked softly with a slight air of awkwardness.

"My scar. I noticed you eyeing it. It happened as a result of a fight with one of my friends. During childhood. We were quite young." Jackie explained. Dagny nodded obediently without question or further prodding.

Jackie stared dreamily into the space beyond the woods remembering that day. Life had changed so drastically since then. She spent years of her life wondering how Eleanor could just give up. What was it in her life that was so terrible, it made the moments of pleasure and joy not worth living for? She fingered her scar delicately, tracing the pattern down the length of her anterior arm. A memory that once brought her immense sadness and frustration, now served as one of the single greatest sources of confusion in her life. Maybe Eleanor was right all along. Was she alive today, or did she escape before the world went to Hell, realizing that life as they knew it was collapsing long before Jackie and the others?

"Are you alright?" she heard Dagny repeat, raising her voice slightly.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I was just thinking about something. A memory from a life long passed." Jackie replied languorously. "So, what's your story?" Jackie asked the new arrival, mustering all the enthusiasm she could, as she directed her towards their camp.

"I'm from San Francisco." Dagny began wearily. "I'm a Physician Assistant. I was working at UCSF in the ICU at the time the attacks escalated. I'm lucky to have made it out." She whispered quietly.

"I was a medical student." Jackie said running her fingers through her chestnut hair. "I was just accepted into Emory's medical program. I moved here from Florida at the beginning of the semester a few weeks ago to be closer to my sister and my family." Jackie relayed.

Dagny nodded her head with acknowledgement. "Medicine will become more important to us now than it ever has been in the past. You chose a good profession." She informed Jackie earnestly. "Before the attacks escalated, I was researching the infection." She nodded her small chin downwards towards the battered manila folder under her arm. "I went back to the hospital before fleeing town to gather the research I completed so far. It nearly killed me." Dagny told Jackie. "The hospital was overrun by walkers and militant right-wing commandos."

"How did you escape?" Jackie asked her with great curiosity.

"A friend."Dagny replied mellifluously without further explanation.

Jackie respected the solemnity of the moment and avoided further questioning. Though she had only known Dagny for moments, she already liked the young woman. Dagny represented hope and longing for a return to normalcy, and the completion of her education that was rudely interrupted at the time the world degenerated.

As they approached the camp, a group of survivors ran towards Jackie and enveloped her in a hug. Clearly they were relieved that she returned safely to the camp.

"Where have you been?" a tall woman with ashy buzzed hair sequestered shaking her head angrily at the pair. A small, thin little girl with soft blonde waves and bright blue eyes peered out from behind the angry mother nervously. "Aunt Jackie, mom's been really worried about you. She said you better stop pissing around and get back to camp." The little girl smiled as she glanced upward at her aunt seeking approval.

"Sophia, that's enough. Run along and see what Carl's up to." The mother ordered her daughter. "I thought you were dead, or worse…" she trailed off looking at her sister.

"I found her," Jackie pointed at Dagny as a reference "napping by a tree. I wasn't sure if she was still alive at first, so I leaned in to check her pulse and…" Jackie trailed off as she watched Dagny walk slowly through the group rubbing her eyes and shaking her honey-colored head in sheer disbelief.

Jackie did not know Shane well, but she felt at this point she knew him well enough to form a baseline opinion of the man. Many of the people around her had one by one fell apart, their wills to live being tested daily; most of them responded submissively and blindly to orders operating in a perpetual state of shock and bewilderment. Shane was different. It was almost as if he belonged in this world. Shane was a man of little emotion, his words, actions, gestures, and thoughts executed through a careful and precise series of lucid rationality and calculation. Any shred of remaining humanity and emotion was masked behind his "Utopian philosophy of 'for the greater good'." For as long as Jackie had known Shane, he was a man governed strictly by logic and adrenaline without room for emotions or empathy.

Jackie felt her mouth fall open in utter disbelief as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. Shane turned and saw Dagny walking towards him. His mocha brown eyes widened, and the color drained from his face, leaving him in a ghastly pallor. He fell to his knees, his gaze fixed on the woman like a hungry hunter who has just spotted a deer. And then Jackie saw it. One solitary tear rolled down his tanned cheek and landed in the dirt in front of him. She chewed her bottom lip with frustrated anxiety. It became evident to her that not only did Shane Walsh and Dagny Quinn know each other, but they had feelings for one another.

- A Few Days Ago-

Sitting by the campfire, watching Lori Grimes nervously wring her hands and twirl her mahogany hair, Jackie became flooded with a foreboding sense of worry. She fought the urge to chew on her nails, and indulged in evolutionary cues to satiate anxiety through the timeless act of nesting. Jackie collected a stack of dishes and headed inside the trailer, Amy in tow, to wash them up. Night had swiftly fallen on the camp side, and Daryl, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog had yet to return from Atlanta. Jackie began to fill the sink with luke-warm water from the plastic gallon jug next to it. "I bet you never anticipated a birthday like this." She commented absent-mindedly to Amy. Amy failed to respond. "Amy?" she questioned removing her hands from the grimy water and drying them on a nearby paper towel.

A blood-curdling scream pierced the air, and Jackie surveyed her surroundings quickly looking for a weapon before emerging from the trailer. She grabbed the aluminum baseball bat propped beside the sink, and quickly descended the stairs, without fear or thought, a pure autonomic reaction. Three decaying walkers had sunk their bacteria-infested canines into the side of Amy's neck, tearing enthusiastically at the soft, sweet flesh. Jackie swung the bat furiously without thought or target. She stumbled backward in shock from the impact as the bat connected with occipital surface of the first walker's skull. She began to bludgeon the second walker, though lacking the force or velocity behind the first swing. Failing to make meaningful connection, the flesh of the decaying faces tore with each strike of the bat, and one eyeball rolled out of its orbit, landing just shy of her feet. She cringed. The remaining two walkers redirected their attention from Amy to Jackie. The one-eyed walker grabbed frantically at her ankle and pulled her down the remaining steel trailer stairs. She thrust her arms downward to shield her from the fall, and the bat clanged to the ground and rolled away from her. As she stared into the gruesome faces of her two attackers, she was plagued not by thoughts of survival, not by thoughts of hope, rather by thoughts of regret as she reflected, "I might die tonight, and he will never know how I feel." Jackie closed her eyes, wondering if this is how Eleanor felt all those years ago, and waited for the imminent end, praying it would be quick and merciful. All around her, the world was silent. Time stood still, and she said a silent prayer not only for herself, but for her sister, and her niece. Jackie never heard him emerge from the shrubs in the woods as the arrows pierced through the air, swiftly and with great accuracy, finding their targets with relative ease. The two walkers fell into a heap of rotting flesh at her feet, and Jackie collapsed into tears.

- A Few Months Ago-

"John, I cannot come pick you up right now, I am sleeping. It's 1:00 AM, and I have a final tomorrow morning. Where are you anyways?" Jackie asked her voice riddled with exasperation.

"At the bar." John slurred on the other line.

"I kind of figured that John. What bar are you at? And who are you with?" she questioned as she sat up in bed, peeling the comforter off her body and reaching to the floor for her slippers.

"Ed." Came the one-word response.

"For Christ's sake John, are you in Georgia? Let me get this straight, you want me to drive to Georgia, pick you up, drive you home, and be fresh and ready to go for my 8:00 AM Organic Chemistry final. Is that correct?" she said fighting to suppress the rage that boiled inside of her.

"Carol won't wake up Sophia and come and get us." John pouted on the other line.

"John," Jackie all but screamed, "I asked you to stop hanging out with him. Of course Carol won't wake her 12-year-old daughter at 1:00 AM in the morning to pick up her dead-beat husband. Would you?" Jackie asked, "No wait, don't answer that." She replied quickly.

"Jackie it's just one exam, stop being such a bitch and come get me." John reasoned.

"Excuse me?" Jackie asked overwhelmed with rage.

"You're drunk. You better find some place to sleep for the night, and think about how you've been treating me." Jackie cautioned. "I'll talk to you in the morning." She said complacently as she went to replace the phone in its cradle.

"You and your sister are just the same…" he slurred, "You are a bunch of –"

"Don't finish that sentence." Jackie said wagging her finger at the phone as if he could see it through the receiver. "I'm done John. We've talked about this. I moved here to get a fresh start. I couldn't stand seeing the way Ed treated Carol, and I am certainly not going to put up with this from you. Your stuff will be on the porch by the time you get here tomorrow. I'm changing the locks." Jackie rolled out of bed, thrust her feet into the cream wool sweater slippers, and stalked off to the closet, where she began ripping John's Armani suits from the closet one by one, throwing them in a pile on the hardwood floors.

- A Year Ago-

"I don't understand why you have to go." Carol proclaimed wistfully. "This is my problem to deal with, not yours." She offered.

"Carol, I cannot continue to watch you live like this. It's painful for me. I spend all of my free time worrying about you, and worrying about Sophia. I'm not living my own life because I am too busy worrying about yours. And you won't do anything to change it. I can't just sit here and watch you fall apart, I've done everything I could." Jackie cried, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

"How can you say that? Look, I know things haven't been great between Ed and I, but he loves us, and he provides for us. He gives Sophia a good life, she deserves to want for nothing." Carol argued.

"I'm not going to argue with you Carol. You are my sister, and I love you, and I will always be here for you, but I am not going to physically stay here and watch things fall apart when you have the power to change them. I just cannot do that, and I'm sorry if you don't understand." Jackie asserted twirling her long hair into ringlets around her finger as she looked nervously into the eyes of her sister.

"What about Sophia? She is really going to miss you. You take such good care of her…" Carol trailed off through her tears.

"Carol, please come with me! Come with me and bring Sophia. John and I bought a house. A beautiful house near the beach and the university! Though it's not huge, there's enough space for all of us, and you and Sophia can start over again." Jackie pleaded. "Ed is ruining our lives. Carol, he beats you for Christ's sake, and look at the way John behaves when he is around him? We all just need a fresh start. I know we don't have much money, and I know it isn't much of a promise, but we can be a family, a REAL family, and isn't that better after all?" Jackie questioned.

Carol looked at her sister longingly and pulled her into her arms. "I love you Jackie, be safe and stay in touch." She said as she embraced her sister.


	4. Chapter 3

**All the Lonely People**

**Chapter Three**

_NOTE:__ I in no way claim the characters or plot content of these fanfiction stories that belong to The Walking Dead, those are proprietary creations of Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore, Charlie Adlard, and Frank Darabont. Original characters and plot content are a blend of my own creation, and suggestions, input, and guidance from readers and reviewers._

_I hope that everyone is enjoying the story so far. I've had this chapter (along with the prior one) outlined in a notebook for almost a week now, and FINALLY got around to typing and detailing it. I should be able to start (and hopefully finish) a few more chapters this weekend as I have a very lengthy plane ride ahead of me. I am going to try to use ALL original OCs that were submitted to me, in chronological order, so be patient! Each OC will have their own introductory chapter, explaining their background and linking them to the other characters. Once this is complete, we will all begin our adventure together! Please be patient if I have to change some details about your background stories. It's proving to be a little difficult to fit everyone in, and still progress the timeline forward._

_I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! Please feel free to mail me commentary, feedback, ideas, suggestions, or general well wishes at any time._

- Present Moment -

Cindy Andrews traipsed through the woods with Daryl and the other women looking for the little girl. She had only met this group moments ago, but found their hysteria and urgency around finding the little girl unavoidably infectious. Her straight-as-an-arrow platinum blonde hair swished around her shoulders as she bounded after Jackie Stone, the woman who had found her under the Camaro only mere hours ago.

She couldn't help but smile in spite of herself as she caught the sandy-brown haired man staring at her T-shirt and shaking his head. Cindy found it a comfort that even in these incredibly disconsolate times, it was possible to still feel human. She got a rush of excitement just knowing that he was paying attention to her. She smiled satisfactorily at the day-old T-shirt, now covered in car grease and oil, and riddled with holes. Heather-gray, and fitted, with tiny little white smiley pillows yanking and punching at each other, as feathers swirled around them; the shirt had once been her favorite.

"What's that?" Jackie asked in a hushed whisper, throwing her arm out in front of Cindy's chest to halt her.

"Something's coming." Carol, the tall thin woman with ash-colored buzzed hair proclaimed apprehensively.

"Get behind me." Daryl ordered the women, protective nature quickly becoming old habit.

Two women rode up on horseback. One with bright emerald eyes and short, chin-length chestnut brown hair, and the other fair-skinned with long, wavy red hair, a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and navy blue eyes. The red head held a rifle poignantly in her arms, and looked frantically from face to face as if she were searching for someone in particular.

"Sophia?" Carol ran towards the women on horses frenziedly and without thought. "Have you seen my daughter Sophia?"

The two dark mares stamped nervously at the ground and shifted on their feet. "Stand back." The red head commanded with an impatient and stern look on her face. "You'll spook the horses." She justified.

"I'm Maggie, and this is Harper. We're looking for Lori Grimes." The brunette stated to the group. "Your husband Rick sent us. You need to come with us right away." She hurried.

A thin woman with bushy, mahogany hair elbowed her way through the group and began to walk cautiously towards the horses. In one abrupt and unexpected movement, Cindy vaulted towards the woman and grabbed her arm. "Don't go with them. You don't know them." Cindy stated with an air of panic, her ice blue eyes widened with trepidation and uncertainty. "You don't know what they want with you." She instigated.

"I don't know you either." Lori expectorated, "but we welcomed you into our group only moments ago with open arms."

"Lori, she's right." Daryl interjected, laying his bow to the ground so as not to agitate the horses, and walking towards the congregated women.

"We don't have time for this!" Harper, the red head, sighed tetchily. "It's your son Carl. You need to come with us now. He needs you." She stammered while gesturing to Lori to mount the horse behind Maggie.

Without further regard to any impending danger or atrocities, Lori climbed on the back of Maggie's horse, and wrapped one arm around the slender brunette's waist. "They know Rick, they know Carl, and they say that Carl needs me. That's enough for me." Lori articulated as the three women galloped away on horseback.

- A Few Hours Prior-

Cindy Andrews dismounted her clementine-orange 1995 Harley Davidson Sportster, and knelt to the ground pumping her fist in victory. She lifted her gray T-shirt and stared disconcertedly at her emaciated ribs, poking them absently and trying to actively recall the last time she ate. Despite all the weight she had lost, and the tightening of the skin around her abdomen, the large scar over her umbilical region remained prominent: a reminder to her that even people you love have the ability to hurt you.

After several days on the road, traveling through the South Carolina countryside, she had finally happened across a section of highway cluttered with vehicles left in reckless abandonment. She rifled through the cars looking for canned food and water. Cindy was never more thankful to be alive, more than that, Cindy was never more thankful to be alone.

At the peak of the outbreak, Cindy longed for the amity of other living, breathing human beings. She desperately craved companionship. Only twenty-one years of age, still naïve in many ways of the world, what she didn't realize is that anarchy and lawlessness walk hand in hand with the collapse of civilization. A microbiology student from Duke, Cindy had consciously decided as infection spread and loved ones died, that she needed to make her way to Atlanta, to aid the CDC in what little (if any) progress they had made towards discovering the causative agent responsible for the outbreak.

As Cindy searched with prodigious fervor through a green 1978 Chevrolet Camaro, she heard the distant hum of an engine approaching. Terrified as she hypothesized that her captors had returned for her, had followed her all this way, hundreds of miles down the highway, Cindy decided to crawl under the car and hide.

- A Few Days Prior-

Cindy aimed the 10mm Beretta at the man standing before her. "Let us go, and I won't shoot you." She quavered timidly.

"Blondie, you know you aren't going to pull that trigger. You have a hard enough time shooting walkers. You want to kill one of the only living people left in this world? Come on now angel face. Put the gun down and bring your sweet little ass over here. I'll tell you what, I won't even hit you for acting up." He grinned flashing his perfectly straight, bleach white teeth at her. He walked towards her in slow, confident steps, and touched her lightly on her right acromion process, running his finger tip lightly down the anterior side of her arm.

"Don't touch me." Cindy stammered nervously, hands still coiled tightly around the gun, fingers laced through the trigger. She knew she had to escape, but she was not prepared to kill one of the few living people that remained in this world. Weeks of being trapped in the makeshift harem with James and his seedy fraternity friends had robbed the girl of what remaining innocence she had left.

James continued to move his finger possessively over her body with little fear or repercussion of the consequences of his action.

Cindy closed her eyes, lowered the barrel of the gun to the James' kneecap, and pulled the trigger. Spatters of blood and small chunks of flesh and bone that once comprised the his patella flew into her face, and she stopped only for a moment to wipe the crimson blood from her eyes before turning and running as fast she could.

- A Few Weeks Prior-

"You and that bitch mother of yours contribute nothing. I'm sick of this. You hog all the provisions. You're just holding me back. That's all you've ever done. You're only purpose in life you little whore is to keep me from realizing my own." He slurred as he attempted to raise his rifle to his trembling daughter for the second time that evening.

"You don't mean that dad." Cindy reassured him as she took a deep breath. Her body writhed with pain, and she forcefully ignored the wound in her abdomen as she attempted to regain control of the situation. "You've had a little bit too much to drink tonight, and I think that the alcohol has you a bit down. You don't mean that though. Why don't you put the gun down." Cindy suggested as she limped purposefully towards her father. Her mother gripped her arm tightly, partially in fear for her daughter, and partially in admonished pride for the amazing woman she had become.

"I'm sick of this. I'm sick of having to wake up every day and pretend I give a damn. Sick of looking after your worthless asses." He ranted as he attempted to steady himself and raise the rifle.

"I know things have gotten bad dad, but this needs to stop." Cindy cautioned her dad. "Things won't always be this bad. We can go to Atlanta. The CDC is there. Surely they have established some sort of survivors' colony." Cindy asserted. "They'll let us in. I can help them in the lab. We can put a stop to all this, just please dad, put down the gun." Cindy implored as she grasped the flesh wound in her abdomen from where he had already shot her.

"Why are you so convinced things are better there? There is no cure. No vaccine. This isn't something man created; this isn't something within our realm of control. This is God's work you dumb bitch, and no solitary man can avenge the wrath of God." He ranted. He raised the gun once more and aimed it at Cindy's temple. As he squeezed the trigger, Cindy's typically submissive mother threw herself into the path of the bullet, sacrificing her life for that of her only daughter.

Cindy blinked her ice blue eyes, and stared at the empty hollow of a man she once loved, a man she once called her father. She took a deep breath, and forcefully restrained the tears that dwelled within. "Good luck surviving the apocalypse asshole." She muttered as she limped towards the door.

- A Few Month Prior-

Cindy Andrews teemed with excitement as she began to set up her tent. Life had become unexpectedly perfect for her over the past year. She was preparing to enter her senior year at Duke, she had met the love of her life who she was absolutely certain was going to propose to her tonight, and she had gotten a great job leading expeditions for wayward youths with Outward Bound. It seemed that her life had finally turned around.

"Hey Cindy," Francisco called to her. "I'm going to gather firewood while you help the kids set up camp for the night." He informed her.

"OK. Is that before or after you propose to me?" she asked him ruefully.

"What makes you think I am going to propose to you?" he said chewing on his lip and displaying an exaggerated frown.

"Because you love me, and Jack loves me, and I love both of you. And…" she trailed off, "the stars have all aligned." She smirked as she gestured to the sky where indeed one discernable line of stars shone brightly amongst the clusters. "What more reason do you need?" she asked playfully.

"Well then, it seems you have diffused my last resorting means of procrastination." He said thoughtfully. "I guess I'll just have to propose to you."

Cindy gazed at him expectantly, eyes wide, perched on the tips of her toes.

"Not this second though. First, we need firewood." He proclaimed as he kissed her softly on the cheek and trotted towards the woods.

Cindy softly hummed the melody of "All You Need is Love," as she assembled the frame of the tent. Her isolated bliss was quickly interrupted by inconsolable screaming and crying from her charges. She turned around quickly and saw Francisco limping from the woods, holding his arm. Crimson red blood surged from a gaping wound, and fell in puddles and trails at his feet as he made his way towards her. Cindy quickly ushered the campers into a large tent, instructing them to remain there and quietly talk amongst themselves until she instructed them otherwise.

"It bit me." Francisco murmured quietly turning a ghastly shade of pale. "We need to get the campers out of here and back to the base." He said as he fell to his knees.

"What bit you?" Cindy asked worriedly. All these months she had spent in the woods, the docile animals that patroned it never bothered her or the campers.

"A man. A man bit me." He stuttered as he passed out at her feet.

Cindy arrived at the hospital hours later after assuring that all the campers had returned home safe and sound. Jack sat at his father's side, clutching his clammy hand with a grip that only the Jaws of Life could undo. Cindy quietly sat down in the chair beside him, and ran her hand through his soft blonde curls. "It's going to be OK Jack."

Days later, as Francisco began to recover, and his wound began to heal, he suddenly took a turn for the worse. He became hyperpyrexic, and exhibited signs of hemoptysis with a violent cough. The doctors informed Cindy that he had acquired a nosocomial infection, Methicillin Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus, and that the antibiotics were not working. There was nothing left for them to do, other than to make him comfortable.

- A Year Ago-

Francisco Ranier smiled confidently as he approached the beautiful blonde sales clerk at _Mountainman Chic_, the local camping and sportswear emporium. Things were definitely looking up for him, and if he had his way, they would be looking even better tonight when he had dinner with the friendly blonde sales woman. His drug-addict of an ex-wife had been deported back to Toronto, and after a grueling year of custody battles and hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees, he finally had full custody of his son. On top of that, he had just been promoted to the head of Human Resources and Employee Development at Outward Bound.

"Hi!" the enthusiastic young goddess greeted him. "I see you have been staring at those hiking boots for quite some time now. Is there something I can help you with?" she smiled displaying two identical dimples in her flawless porcelain skin.

Francisco took a deep breath, and ran his fingers through his thick, ebony hair. This was the part about meeting women he dreaded the most. "I just received full custody of my son. I wanted to celebrate by taking him on a camping trip, and I need new hiking boots." He grimaced as he revealed to the woman his parental status.

"I can help you with that, no problem!" she said without hesitation. "Why don't you have a seat." She instructed him gesturing to the maroon leather arm chairs outfitting the shoe section of the store. "What size do you wear?" she asked him casually.

"Eleven." He replied without thinking.

"Oh yeah?" she responded coyly raising an eyebrow at him.

Francisco blushed at her insinuation.

"I'm afraid you are going to have to get to know me better first if you want to officially verify my shoe size." He joked. "For now, I think you are just going to have to trust me."

"Are you asking me out?" she queried.

"Are you responding yes?" he replied.

"I don't know anything about you." She said as she struggled to carry a stack of boxed hiking boots to his chair.

"Well, you know that I'm divorced, I have a young son, and that I wear a size eleven shoe. What more do you need to know?" he smiled. His jade green eyes twinkled as he stared at her.

"Well, I guess it's settled then. Despite the fact that we don't know each other's names, ages, or mental status, we simply must have dinner together." She smirked as she helped him into the first boot.

"So this is how she felt." He replied dreamily.

"Excuse me?" the blonde girl asked him with an air of perplexion.

"Cinderella. This is how she felt when she put on her magic glass slippers and changed her life forever." He grinned as he locked eyes with the exquisite girl.


End file.
